Line 4
by chihana
Summary: TimKon. AU. Public transport is more interesting that it seems.
1. Chapter 1

**I was rambling one day, started writing a fic and it turned into a monster )o) enjoy.**

**Meeya helped me a lot on this fic. Like, A LOT. And she's a way better writer than me o3o love her.  
**

* * *

_Monday, 27th September._

Tim stared at his phone. No signal. Grumbling, he put it back again in his pocket and stared at the window. The rain and the speed didn't let him see the buildings clearly. Tim was sure they were also the reason why his phone wasn't working either, and he needed to make that call. After a long day at WE, the last thing he wanted was the headache that the blurry images would surely cause him.

He turned his head foward and glanced over the other occupants of the train. Most of them were tired workers coming back home. Nobody was talking. The train arrived to another station, more passengers entered, and Tim was already pulling his phone out again to see if it was working when he saw him.

A boy, maybe a bit younger than him, a bit taller, walked the other side of the wagon. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary about his looks. He wasn't the best looking person Tim had ever seen either. But he seemed to have so much energy, with his back straight and his head up, the hint of a smile in his mouth. And his eyes… even from the other side of the wagon Tim couldn't ignore them. It was the brightest shade of blue he had ever seen. After fumbling a bit with an ipod, the other boy started staring at the window, tapping with his foot at the rhythm of some song, and then Tim had no reason to stop staring.

So he didn't.

Tim forgot to look again at his phone for the whole time the boy was there.

* * *

_Thursday, 30 September._

The forecast had announced light rain that day, but it had been dead wrong. Tim grumbled while trying to wipe his hair dry with a handkerchief that he shouldn't have been surprised. As thunder resounded inside the wagon, he sighed and looked down at his phone distractedly again.

Bored, Tim started glancing looked around at the other passengers. Some of them, he saw them everyday. The old man with a suit and a cane that worked in WE too. The woman with the three piercings in one ear, always dressed in red and black. The red haired cop that would fall asleep in his seat every other day. They were always on the line 4. With a sigh, he moved on. Then he started -re-reading the warnings plastered all over the train. He was starting with the advertisements, when the doors opened -Tim hadn't even noticed that they had arrived at the station, those stickers were entertaining- and the boy from the day before stepped in. There were other people stepping in as well, but Tim didn't pay them any attention. Because of the storm, there were more passengers than it was usual in that line, and the boy wind up standing closer to Tim.

Due to the closer distance, it was dangerous to try watching the boy as he had been doing preciously. But Tim couldn't help himself. He was just one of many tired people going back home. So a few glances around him would hardly warrant any raised eyebrows. And it was better than out right staring which would get anyone's attention

From the corner of his eye, Tim noted that the eyes that he previously admired were as bright upclose as they had been from afar. He hadn't even noticed the glasses the first time around! The boy was just… perfect. Tim had always been a perfectionist -that's how he had managed his job at WE- and he couldn't see any fault in him. Everything about him made the word jump up to the tip of his tongue. Even his mood seemed to be better than anyone else's. Not too difficult, though, since Tim hadn't been the only person caught by surprise by the storm. But it's not that the boy wasn't even frowning. Tim could see again the tiny smile, and he wanted to get closer, wanted to see how those blue eyes would look when they were looking at him.

Maybe if the boy looked at him Tim would simply spontaneously combust.

To Tim's surprise, he found himself wanting to.

* * *

_Tuesday, 4rd October._

Five days had passed since Tim had seen Conner for the first time. Tim had discovered that his name was Conner thanks to a folder the boy had brought with him one day at the train. Tim had never been so glad about his -until then completely unuseful- "reading text upside-down" skills.

Still, there was still a chance that the man's name wasn't Conner. Perhaps the folder belonged to someone else. And it was sightly alarming how didn't seem to care. It was a hopeless crush, he reasoned to himself. He was just happy he had another name to give him besides "that guy on the train".

Now, every day Tim found himself waiting for Conner to arrive to the train. And every day he'd try to get a little bit closer while mantaining a distance in order to observe Conner. Most days Conner would pop in his headphones and start listening to some music. Other days he would fiddle around on his phone. Some days he's sink into an empty seat and go to sleep for the duration fo the train ride. Blessedly, it appeared that he hadn't noticed Tim eyeing him yet. Tim was glad of that. Even if he still wanted to know more about Conner, he knew it was just a crush. Like when he spent years with his crush on Dick. Years maybe meaning half of his life. Crushes had no future. They were fleeting and temporary. Besides, Tim was satisfied by just being able to see Conner every day. Maybe it'd go away with the time. He was confident that that would happen soon.

* * *

_Friday, 7th October._

The weather wasn't bad. Tim hadn't even noticed the bit of sunlight that would filter between the clouds from time to time, a rare phenomenon in Gotham, but the other passengers had; actually, most of them were busy looking at the window and admiring the bright view. Tim was completely unaware of this, though, still focused on looking at Conner as much as he could without being noticed. And somehow, as Conner turned around to grab his backpack and get out, his gaze found Tim's.

Tim forgot to breathe for a moment. Conner looked confused for a moment, but the moment disappeared when he bent down to grab his backpack. Relief washed over Tim, heart thudding painfully hard against his ribs. Conner caught him staring and hadn't looked angry, and best of all, Tim hadn't spontaneously combusted. Just when his heart beat was starting to go back to normal, as Conner started walking out, he looked at Tim again. He felt flustered at having been caught staring at a stranger twice within a minute, -he had forgotten he should be looking somewhere, anywhere else. But then Conner smiled at him.

As the doors closed behind Conner, Tim lost all his hope of the crush disappearing with time.

* * *

_Wednesday, 3rd November._

The weather had been nice those last days, and Tim was happy. Every day he'd get to the train, and every day, on the second station after his, Conner would get on. Tim had never talked to him ever since he had noticed him, and now he didn't dare stare in such a bold manner as he had in the first week. But still, Tim was happy. Because sometimes Conner had noticed him, and smiled.

Tim was certain. that his name was Conner now. He had deteremined that on the third week, from one day when they had sat down next to each other. He had caught sight of the 'Conner' keychain attached to the backpack, and Tim also learned that Conner liked Lady Gaga. That day had been nerve wracking and amazing at the same time. Tim had kept worrying that Conner might somehow find out how nervous he was or worse. Turn to look at him. He had also memorized a good part of Conner's wardrobe now or at least most of it. He should have also memorized his face, after a whole month, especially since he had been discreetly checking him out for for weeks. But Tim felt like that every time he looked at Conner, he discovered something new about his features. The position of his eyebrows when he smiled or frowned, a beauty mark on his neck, the dimple on his left cheek, the little scar in on the back his left hand, every little detail was fascinating to Tim. He would never get tired of looking at Conner.

The universe, however, had clearly gotten tired of Tim looking at his crush and not taking any action. Of that, Tim was certain as one day the train skipped Conner's station entirely. It seemed ridiculous, but Tim's heart stopped had sank down when that happened. And when he arrived at his own station, instead of going home, he stayed there in the hopes of finding out what had been the cause of that mistake. Was it a malfunction? An human mistake, maybe?

He had been was informed eventually that the line 4 had been modified. There was no reason to worry, though, since the stations he used every day were still on the line.

Conner's station, however, wasn't.

The next day Tim got into the train, he had hoped that everthing the last day had been product of his imagination. Even if the weight in his stomach told him that it was nothing more than wishful thinking. Indeed, the traject confirmed it, and Tim realized that Conner and he wouldn't use the same line the train just moved past Conner's station, his fears were only confirmed and Tim could only sigh to himself dejectedly. Once he was at home, he had a panic attack.

He knew he was pathetic, but he couldn't help it. He didn't even have anyone to talk to about Conner. Tim realized that he didn't even have a picture of him, his surname. He had lost his single contact with the only person he had felt a bit of interest about in over a year. The worst part though? He didn't know anything important about Conner. Was he a student at Gotham University? A worker at one of the many companies present in Gotham? Where did he live? A google search of people named Conner in Gotham proved itself fruitless. Eventually, Tim had to accept that he had no other option except to get over his crush.

* * *

Two weeks had passed since Tim had last seen Conner, and his feelings had not changed. The first two days after the lines changed, he tried to go on with his life. Soon he realized it wouldn't work. Anyways, he had some time to spend in the afternoons and nobody to spend it with, so the first thing he did after accepting the situation was to try all the lines that stopped at Conner's stations. After the first week he would just try to get to off the train on random stations and just stay there in the hopes of catching sight of Conner, his heart jumping every time he saw anybody tall with dark hair and glasses.

There was no sign of Conner.

Finally Tim accepted his defeat. Conner had, surely, stopped using public transport. Or at the very least, stopped using the train. Or changed his schedule… There were a hundred different reasons why he hadn't seen the man for so he had bought a bike, maybe he had changed his job.

Perhaps he had moved out of Gotham, or even died.

Either way, Tim had no way to of knowing. He felt ashamed about using so much time and effort in the vain hopes of finding a person that he didn't even know. Still, he wound up wandering and looking for Conner every day. And every day, he never caught even a glimpse of the man. Tired and frustration, Tim finally gave in and got a car. The only reason he hadn't got one before is that public transport was handy and that cars required work. Now having his own means of transport meant that he no longer had to take the train. Which meant that he wouldn't have to deal with any reminders of Conner anymore.

The memories about Conner wouldn't disappear, but it was better than the train.


	2. Chapter 2

Conner left the package at his feet, in the middle of the street, and looked up at the WE building. He had been working as a delivery boy for two months now, and he had never been sent to any of those big, intimidating skyscrapers located in the center of Gotham. He wondered what kind of person was this Timothy Drake -Conner had just read the recipient's name- and what kind of work he did in a place like that.

Actually, he had spent most of his time in the public transport. He was pretty used to taking the train for almost everything, and since Gotham was so big he spent a lot of time there. Now he didn't like using it that much, though.

Conner had given up his search of that cute guy that had stopped using the line 4 two weeks ago. That line was a bit inconvinient for Conner to use now after they changed the stations. But he hadn't minded walking the extra distance to use it.

Sadly, since the lines had changed he hadn't been able to see that man there again. He didn't have time to look around a lot, truthfully. Hell, he didn't even know the guy's name. Enough line 4 for him.

But today he had to go to the Wayne Enterprize building, and the line 4 was quite close. Maybe he'd find him there somewhere in the area? Conner decided that if he finished early he could spend a bit of time looking around, no harm done to anybody. Besides, he was due for his lunch break after this delivery.

So, he picked again the package and hurried inside the building.

It was full of people inside, bustling like busy bees in a hive. Conner froze in the doorway, feeling slightly intimidated. Even worse, almost everybody was wearing a suit, like the boy from the train used to, and Conner felt overwhelmed for a moment. He spent a whole minute looking for a pair of blue eyes and dark, floppy hair. Then he remembered that he had promised himself he would look around when he was done. That thought in mind, he approached the receptionist. Who promtly ignored him in favor of her ringing telephone.

When she was done, he cleared his throat, Conner gave the lady at the table his best smile. He was really proud of that smile. It had even made the cute guy from the line 4 -that didn't take the line 4 anymore- blush once.

The receptionist, unfazed and polite smile in place, looked at him. Before she looked away again Conner held the package up in front of him. He was in a hurry dammit.

"I have a package here for Mr... Timothy Drake. Could you tell me where can I find him please?."

The polite smile remained in place. Conner felt a drop of sweat running down his forehead when her smile widened.

"I'm sorry but I can not let you go to Mr Drake's office. He's a busy man."

Conner gave her his best pleading look. "But I really need to give him this now! I was told to hand deliver this. Isn't there any chance he could come over here instead?"

The receptionist blinked and pushed some buttons, then she talked through her headset to someone on the other end of the line.

"Mr Drake? There's someone down here saying that he has a package for you."

Conner waited impatiently as the woman listened to whatever Mr Drake was saying. He could imagine Mr Drake, one of those old, balding CEOs in the most expensive office you could think of, like the villains of some films, and lost his hope of finishing this delivery fast.

"He wants to know who is the package from." Conner's head went up and lifted the package again, turning it around until he could read the data.

"Mr Richard Grayson from Bludhäven."

The receptionist repeated the information and waited again for a response. Finally she seemed satisfied and ended the call.

"You'll have to wait here until Mr Drake is able to come down, son. He is quite busy today. If you could please stay over there by the water cooler. Thank you." Conner hadn't realize that the call was over, but he was obviously being dimissed, so he grabbed his package and walked over to one of the empty chairs near the entrance.

Conner sighed as he sat down, placing the package in the seat next to him. It weighted more than he expected. He prepared himself for what would surely be a long wait, feeling quite down at the moment. No matter what was in the package, with all the remarks about what a busy man was, it was clear for Conner that the delivery would be delayed.

Most of the people walking around the hall were way older than the boy from the train, and Conner highly doubted now that he'd find him there. His smile had proven itself to be completely inefficient with the recepcionist, too. The only good thing about the day was how confortable the chair was.

Conner realized that he had dozed off when he opened his eyes again and noticed the sun was setting and the crowd in the lobby had thinned. The receptionist was standing in front of him, a concerned look on her face as she asked, "Are you alright?" Conner immediately nodded, straightening up as he stammered, "Sorry! I didn't mean to… Is here?" The lady nodded, turning on her heels and gesturing for Conner to follow.

There was barely anybody walking around as he followed her down a corridor. Conner sighed and followed the lady as she walked into a tiny conference room. Then he stopped dead in his tracks. He might not have been able to even learn his crush name, but he'd recognize him anywhere. The hair, the set of the shoulders, even the portfolio was cradling in his arms was exactly as he remembered them.

Strangely, the first thing that came to mind was that he had left the package in the chairs. The second thing he realized was that the receptionist had noticed it too, and she was commenting it to the guy, sounding quite despective. And she was calling him " ".

Conner's brain filled in the gaps. His crush's name was Timothy Drake-Wayne. He wondered if he liked being called Tim; Timothy sounded way too formal for the cute guy with the shy little smile he had been watching for weeks.

As he ran back to the entrance hall, he realized that he was finally going to meet his crush and he was already making a fool of himself. Way to go, Conner.

He cursed his lack of foresight at that moment. He had been looking for this Tim for days and he hadn't even thought about what would he say in the case he DID manage to find him!. "Hi, my name is Conner, I've been taking the same train that you for a while, we seated next to each other one day, will you go on a date with me now? "was all his brain could think up on the spot and Conner was sure that would get him kicked out of the building.

Conner reached the conference room again, panting slighty from the effort. Surprisingly, Tim hadn't notice him yet, but Conner mind was still blank as he got closer. Finally he stood next to Tim, whose gaze was still locked on the notes in his hand. The receptionist stepped back, closing the frosted door behind her and leaving Conner alone in a small room with the guy he liked. Suddenly Conner realized that Tim might just grab the package and leave, and that he had to do something.

"Hi!" His voice sounded so highpitched that he wanted to crawl into a hole and stay there forever. But that was not a good option, or a feasible one. Even if his voice had been too high, at least it caught Tim's attention. Tim was looking at him now, wide-eyed.

Clearing his throat, he tried again.

"Hi, my name's Conner. "

That had sounded better. It was a good introduction. Feeling slightly more confident, he tried his best smile again, and it definitely had an effect. Tim's mouth was slighty open now, and Conner really had to concentrate to stop looking at his lips and keep talking.

"I don't know if you remember me... we used to take the same train a week or two ago? And I hope this doesn't come off as too forward or anything though I think it kinda will and I'm not even sure if you swing that way but I'm just totally gonna take a chance cause my grandma always said that its better to take a chance and not regret it instead of not taking a chance and regretting it forever but yeah I was hoping that maybe you would… like to havedinnerwithmesomeday?"

The look on Tim's face made Conner wince and get ready to get thrown out by the security. Ready for rejection and his subsquent booting, he started walking backwards towards the door.

"But em, it's cool if you don't want too, I mean, I wouldn't take it personally so. Ok I'll get leaving now, there's your pa..."

"Yes!"

The sudden exclamation made Conner's eyes go wide."Eh?" He stated ever so eloquently. Conner stopped moving, even forgot how to breathe when he saw the almost eager look on Tim's face and dared to hope. What...?

"Yes, I'd love to have dinner with you some day."

Tim now had a slight blush on his cheeks and Conner couldn't believe what he had just heard. In fact, he wanted someone to pinch him just in case. After a couple minutes of worth of silence, Tim hurriedly grabbed a paper from a pile on the conference table and scribbled something down on an edge. Tearing it off, he then he handed the scrap of paper over to Conner. "My personal number." He explained, face even redder than before. "Just, ah, send me a text or something."

Before Conner could say a word, Tim turned around and walked towards the exit, holding the package with both hands.

Conner then stood there, in the middle of the Wayne Enterprise building. There was no one around to see the goofy smile on his face as he peered down at the piece of paper in his hand. Or how that smile grew into a grin when his eyes went over the words, "Tim" and the phone number written down in neat handwriting The receptionist poked her head back in, politely asking if he was done, and that she would show him back out; but the words went in one ear and out the other. His day had just become perfect.


End file.
